


Drabble #1 - Fifty

by DarthAstris



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abuse, Academy Hux, Child Abuse, Dark Side Leia AU, Gen, Gore, Pain, Public Humiliation, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8035135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/pseuds/DarthAstris
Summary: Just a quick drabble filling in some of my tragic headcanons about Armitage's time in the academy.  He's in his second year, though it's not stated, and about 13 or 14 years old (thus the "underage" tag for caution's sake).  It works as part of my Dark Side Leia AU (as one of the last things that happens to him that drives him to secretly apply for a transfer to the Royal Academy on Coruscant), or in canon if you ignore the bits about Arkanis and the mention of his one friend, Tulan.





	Drabble #1 - Fifty

Armitage tried not to flinch as the two cadets to either side of him stripped off his uniform tunic, but he couldn't stop the blush of shame that colored his cheeks.  He was embarrassed by his thinness, his weakness, of having the scars of his past transgressions so publicly exposed, and despised being seen shirtless by the other cadets.  The misty rain settled on his skin, causing him to shiver.  At least he could pretend it was the cold, and not his fear, that made him tremble.

"Attention!" the Commandant, Hux's father, called out.

All of the cadets, including Hux, snapped into the stiff posture that had become second nature to them.

"For the charge of failure to carry out his assigned duty, Cadet Armitage Hux shall receive 50 lashes, to be witnessed by the entirety of the Arkanis Academy Cadet Corps as a deterrent against further such actions."

 _Fifty_.  He shuddered at the number and wondered how long he would last before he passed out this time.  His face remained the controlled, dispassionate mask of someone accustomed to abuse.

"Sergeant Pocarto, present the instrument for inspection."

Pocarto, a tall, lean man with scars of his own running the length of his left side, brought the whip forward.  As a matter of ritual -- _and cruelty_ , Hux thought -- it was presented to him first, ostensibly so he could acknowledge that it had not been tampered with to cause greater damage or pain.  All it served to do was heighten his fear.  Without even looking down, he could see the specks of transparisteel glinting from between the braids of brown nerf leather.  His father had ordered them put there (as he had before, and the time before that), and calling attention to it would probably only earn him further punishment.  Hux cast a bitter glance up to the sergeant and nodded his "approval". He hated himself in that moment, that small act of compliance that made him a willing participant in his own suffering.

The whip was then shown to the medic, to the warrant officer who would inflict the punishment, and finally to his father, whose gravelly voice commanded from behind, "Proceed."

Armitage was marched out to the pillar in the center of the courtyard under the watchful gaze of his classmates.  He was certain that all but one of them, Tulan, a Verpine from the planet Hoth and an outcast in zher own right due to being an alien, anticipated his agony with gleeful sadism.  They all hated him, mostly because he continued to excel at everything despite not receiving any help from his father or anyone else.

As the first manacle snapped shut around his wrist, Armitage fought the instinct to pull away.  One more forced concession to his own degradation, and one more acknowledgement to himself that he deserved this. He knew what was coming.  He'd been through this twice before and he knew how excruciating it would be.  It didn't get any easier over time.

The third year cadet who held his other arm smirked as he locked the last cuff into place, pinning Hux to the post.  Hux ignored him and rested his forehead against the column, steeling himself for the fall of the first lash.

It came faster than he'd expected, eliciting a sharp gasp from him.  He tensed and clenched his fists as the second and third strikes fell.  The scars from his previous floggings granted a modicum of protection against the first six or seven hits, but, as his flesh softened to the blows and the sting built, it took every ounce of strength and concentration to not cry out.  

The medic, who'd scanned him before all this began, stood in front of him and slightly off to the side, observing.  Hux had no doubt that any sound he made, or any sign of tears, would be reported to his father and would result in even harsher disciplinary measures later, so he grit his teeth and endured.

At the tenth, he felt the first welt tear open.  A trickle of blood began its tortuous descent down his back.   _Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen..._ His skin burned as though it had been lit on fire.  Another two gashes opened.  Three.  Four.  Spittle flew as his labored breaths hissed through his teeth, and blood dripped from his hands where his nails had dug deep into the meat of his palms.  

There was a brief pause at twenty as his trembling legs gave out and he sagged against the pillar, gasping.  His boots slipped and scrabbled weakly for purchase in the mud.  He tried to hold himself up using just the strength of his arms.

 _Thirty more! I can't! I can't take it!_ His mind was already reeling from the over-saturation of pain.  Fighting the urge to beg for mercy, for respite, his breath hitched and caught in his throat.  The blows resumed.  Armitage squeezed his eyes shut and turned his pleas inward, imploring his brain to just shut down already, to let him pass out. White streaks, like lightning, flashed in his vision every time another lash struck home.  A buzzing started up in his ears, growing louder with every _whoosh_ and _crack_ of the whip.  He'd lost count and he could no longer hear the warrant officer over the pounding of his own heart.  Hux couldn't even tell where the stripes were landing anymore.  His entire back felt shredded and raw; every nerve screamed with searing agony.  All his strength left him and he hung limply from the shackles, unmoving save for the involuntary tremors of shock setting in.

He couldn't see the darkness creeping in to claim him, but finally, mercifully, it did.  

 


End file.
